Anyway. I'm here to explain to you the story behind my new chart-busting hit, I Want To Have Your Babies. I know you might have thought that with such a very obvious, cringeworthingly girly title, it might secretly be about world peace, or the emancipation of women, or the vital importance of reducing carbon emissions in the developing world, but it's not! It's REALLY about babies! Yeah!

Here's a baby!

Let's get into this video, yeah? Well, thing is, I know that I've got quite the reputation for being this very clean-cut, straight-toothed, good Christian girl, and that's great and things, but my manager felt that maybe we should be reaching into other markets, and, you know, "sexing it up a bit".

So I thought "Yeah!", yeah? And as the bible says, sex between two people within the bounds of marriage is a great thing, as long as it leads to procreation! Babies! And this gave me a great idea. So, anyway, I was in the gym...

And I was having this great one-on-one session with my trainer Pablo, right? And he was touching me in ways that were really quite intimate, like on the knees and things? And we all know what boys and girls touching each other quite intimately can lead to, yeah? Yeah, holding hands. And that was it, he touched my hand, and the magic sparkle happened and I was pregnant!

So flash forward a few months after we held hands, and of course the baby's arrived - and she's gorgeous, and we're walking in the park.

And, suddenly, he runs off! I know! Well, in all the subsequent mediated and supervised meetings, his story was something along the lines of suddenly coming to, not remembering who or where he was, hearing a piercing noise squeaking about babies springing up like daisies and just knowing that he had to save himself, and his sperm.

But I didn't care very much when he ran away, because I've got little Pablette, yeah? And she's going to grow up to be a singer-songwriter. Yes, she is. She's going to grow up fit and strong, with perfect teeth and the ability to write a damn catchy hook, right? Because she's a Bedingfield, you understand? A BEDINGFIELD.

Ahem. Anyway, by then, I'd met Lorenzo. He was my new tennis coach. And though he didn't know it, I was going to inveigle him into the biblically condoned, Bedingfield clan expansion programme, or stab him with the lovingly crafted shank I keep concealed under my shirt. And my skin.

So we were playing tennis one day, and his balls were coming at me, very fast - he's terribly competitive, Lorenzo - and I found that a bit scary, as they were quite big and also hard, and they really hurt when they hit you in the face. But I didn't mind, as it seemed to make Lorenzo very happy.

And after the game was finished, he looked at me with that "special" look in his eye, and we rubbed noses, and the magic sparkle happened, and that was it! Pregnant again!

The whole thing didn't end well, I have to say. We were riding along in a speedboat, me, Lorenzo and Loretta, our daughter, and he challenged this other boat to a race. As I say, terribly competitive, Lorenzo. I was SO not happy about that.

And then, well, what happened next wasn't pretty. The other speedboat disappeared behind a bluff, and when they reappeared we were "gone". Let's just say I'm really glad that Loretta was too young to remember.

So, anyway, to cheer me up, my friends took me out the night after the terrible accident. Clubbing. Yay! So I saw a very handsome man sitting up there in the VIP area, and I had an innocent little idea.

Within minutes we were dancing close together. And I mean REALLY close together. Like almost touching, yeah? And then, one minute, I think we must have touched by mistake, because there was the sparkle and one, two, three, who'd have thunk it: I was pregnant!

So I moved into his beach house first thing the next morning.

He was so good to me. He'd shower me with small furry cardigans and large NB-branded medallions, the round shape of which is, I like to think, representative of a pregnant stomach (a pregnant stomach full of Bedingfields). Sean and I, we were so happy. And then, unexpectedly and annoyingly, he left me. After about 30 seconds. Wandered off with an old man and some suitcases. Never came back.

But I don't care! Because after the necessary confinement period and the birth of my darling little budding singer-songwriter-rapper (Welcome to the world, Shauna Bedingfield! Let's expand the brand!) the most amazing thing happened. Seriously, you'll never believe it.

I met a boy!

And yeah, I know it's not ideal. Yes, he works in a coffee shop. Yes, he's possibly not as genetically pure or strong as some of my other donors, sorry, husbands. But you know how it is: mistakes will happen.

I'd just popped in to pick up a coffee, and, in handing it over, his man-fingers brushed my fertile, lady hand and - pif paf pof! - I, of course, was pregnant!

But it's all turned out all right. I love him, you know? And with that, I decided to make the deepest symbol of love and commitment I think a Bedingfield can make to a person.

Reader, I took him to our genetic laboratory. Yes, the oft-whispered-of, but never-seen-before, top-secret, Bedingfield-singer-songwriter farm and organic baby repository.

He likes it. He is happy. And even though he's kind of weedy, and kind of weak, and every time I open my mighty mouth the air-pressure vacuum created sucks him toward me like a moth to a Hoover, he'll do. For now.

But me? Why, I'm like a kid in a sweetshop! Like Angelina Jolie in a kidshop!

The Bedingfield clan is growing! No one can stop the mighty power of the Bedingfields! Multi-ethnic, multi-talented, multi-award-winning! We are unstoppable! We are legion! I want that one!

And plus - I have discovered, by writing a pop song this catchy, and with the repeating refrain "I want to have your babies", I've created a culture in which people who've only been going out a couple of weeks will come out of the shower singing the wrong song, and then they will break up, and there will be more available men whose babies I can have! More babies! Or I may, by subliminal suggestion, be encouraging couples to suddenly have babies! And they'll kind of be MY babies! All the babies! All Bedingfields! And then we'll take over the WORLD!

MWA HA HA HA HA!

...and with that, the spirit of Natasha Bedingfield left me, weak, limp and lifeless. Channelling is hard work. Especially someone so bouncy and upbeat and, oh I don't know, fertile.